Next Life
by Quinlyn Rae
Summary: *Brief hiatus while I re-write to accommodate new ideas/ship* This time I'm going to make things right. I'm going to make it up to you, I'm going to learn from my mistakes, but inside I'm so lost without you. As I draw my last breath, as I close my eyes, I know the next thing I'll see is you (Next Life, Pop Evil). Fem!Cas, Destiel, Sastiel, Debriel, Sabriel.
1. A Nightmare to Remember

**Updated AN: Okay, so I started this story over, adding to it because I had some new inspiration and wanted to re-write it. So sorry to everyone who has already read it; just stay with me here and I promise it'll be a lot better.**

**AN: Hello! This is my very first Supernatural fanfiction, so I apologise for any errors and OOC-ness (although since it _is_ my story, there technically is no such thing as OOC lol). Anyways, this fic is basically canon up until the eighth season, where I disregard everything that has happened except Naomi's mind-control and Cas's attacking Dean. The tablet Kevin was working on for Crowley has nothing to do with this fic; it's still safe and hidden, as are the Trans. And the finale? Hasn't happened (although it might).**

**There will be fem!Cas in this story, so if you aren't into that, then please just leave while you can :) I don't want anyone to read things they don't like! **

**Disclaimer: I unfortunately don't own the Winchester boys or their wayward angel-if I did...oh my! They belong to the wonderful Mr. Kripke and I only take credit for my plot and any OCs I decide to put in here. Enjoy!**

* * *

Sam ran a hand through his hair in frustration, pushing his laptop away with a huff. He was tired and had yet to find anything of use on their current case. Three girls, all in their late teens, had disappeared with absolutely no trace. Normally the hunters would have brushed it off and left when they were unable to turn anything up, but Garth had insisted it was something supernatural. So the Winchesters stayed, Sam researching and Dean…well, he was being Dean. Deciding that a break would be a good idea Sam stood and stretched before grabbing his jacket off the back of the chair and leaving the motel room. It was a clear night, nice even for the slight chill to the air; the breeze was a welcome respite from the almost sweltering heat of the room—a heating problem yet to be fixed, according to the desk clerk. Sam shook his head and looked up at the sky—there were clouds moving in and he estimated about half an hour before the rain decided to fall. Alone and without the distraction of his research Sam's thoughts drifted to Castiel. Pain filled his chest at the thought of those deep blue eyes, how Cas marvelled at the acts of humans, the slow loss of his faith and the sacrifices the divine being had had to make. Castiel was more than just Dean's guardian angel—he was a friend, to both hunters, and his loss had hit Sam deeply. He hadn't realised how much he relied on the angel, how much he valued their friendship, until Cas was gone. Left alone with his thoughts Sam was able to admit how very much he missed Castiel; there was a large, gaping hole in his life where the angel used to be, a pain that would not recede—much like when Dean was in hell with no hope of getting out. Sam missed him.

"Cas?" he called hesitantly to the sky; as he expected, there was no answer. There never would be again. Sighing and glancing up at the sky once again Sam shook his head and wiped away the tears that threatened to fall; it was time to get back to work.

* * *

Dean walked down the road, hands in the pockets of his leather jacket, shoulders hunched against the chilled autumn air. He looked up at the darkening, cloudy sky, huffing out a sigh; he would have to go back to the motel before Sam started to worry. He really didn't want to face his younger brother and all of the prying questions he would have. Dean just wanted to be alone, lose himself in his thoughts with a bottle of Jack to keep him company. As he contemplated his surroundings a few droplets of water landed in his short blonde hair; Dean looked up right as rain began pouring from the clouds.

"Son of a bitch," he muttered, turning on his heel and walking briskly in the direction from which he came. It took about ten minutes to get back to the motel and he was soaked; fumbling with the key (damn cold fingers) he was finally able to get the door unlocked and open.

"Hey Dean, finally; I was starting to worry about you, man," he was greeted by Sam as he entered the motel room. Shrugging off his jacket Dean looked over to see the taller man seated at the table, hunched over his laptop—nothing unusual there. He was looking at his older brother with concern, taking in his dripping clothing and haggard, weary appearance.

"Yeah, sorry Sammy, I was walking and didn't really notice the time." Dean ran a hand through his short hair. "I'm fucking freezing. I'm just gonna hit the shower. Lemme know if you've found anything when I come out."

"Okay, no problem," Sam agreed easily. Dean nodded and walked into the bathroom, shutting the door heavily behind him. Sam sighed in frustration; it was times like these that he really missed Bobby. The elder hunter was always able to help them out, whether it be with a hunt or personal matters. He had no doubt that Bobby would be able to get Dean to talk, or at least convince the man to sleep. Of course, he wouldn't even think of talking to Bobby about his own problems; no, he wouldn't understand, not really. There was too much that had happened for him to even understand himself, let alone anyone else. So distracted by his thoughts was Sam that he failed to notice Dean sit down in the chair across from him until fingers snapped right in front of his nose.

"Hey, earth to Sam," Dean said loudly, pulling Sam's laptop over to him. "We got anything? Any ideas at all?"

Sam shook his head. "Absolutely nothing. There is no sign of demons anywhere in the area, no sulphur or anything else to suggest demonic activity. I've looked for EMF in the girls' houses—none. Dean, I can't find anything out of the ordinary about their disappearances." He ran his hand through his hair again and yawned, causing Dean to look up from his internet searching.

"You should get some sleep, Sammy. Wouldn't want you all tired while we work. You're the geek boy, I need you awake enough to do some real research," Dean joked to mask his concern for his brother. There were dark circles under Sam's eyes, like he hadn't slept in a few days, and he didn't seem to be listening to Dean. "Hey!" He snapped his fingers again and Sam jumped. "You okay, dude?"

"Yeah, Dean, I-I'm fine. Don't worry about it."

"Well, go get some sleep. I'll look some more." Sam looked at his older brother disapprovingly. Dean noticed and held up a hand before Sam could say anything. "I'll sleep in a bit, I'm just…not tired right now. Go on, I'll be fine." After giving Dean a sceptical look, Sam decided arguing was pointless and went into the bathroom, coming out a minute later in plaid sweats. He sighed, glaring down at the bed—he was tired, yes, but he really dreaded sleep. The nightmares were getting worse, had been for a few weeks now, and even when he did sleep it wasn't good. But no matter how much he wanted to stay awake his body needed rest; with a resigned groan he flopped down on the mattress.

"Night, Dean," he said, surprised by how comfortable the motel bed was. "Get some sleep yourself, ok?"

"Yeah, yeah. Night, Sammy." Dean didn't have to wait long for Sam's light snoring to fill the quiet room; once he was sure his brother was sleeping Dean shut the computer and sat forward in his chair, elbows on knees and head in his hands. He hated the idea of sleep, knew what nightmares would be waiting for him, but he was dead tired; he hadn't slept more than five hours in over a week and knew that his lack of sleep was messing with his concentration. He didn't want to put Sammy in danger because he was too tired to react, but he really didn't want to face his inner demons. There were so many things he tried hard to forget about during the day, things he knew he couldn't escape in the realm of dreams. So he worked himself to exhaustion, hoping that he would eventually be tired enough to sleep dreamlessly. Sighing Dean ran a hand over his face and walked over to his bed, the one closest to the door as always, and flopped down onto the mattress. He was asleep almost before his head hit the pillow.

* * *

_The warehouse was oddly quiet, putting Dean's already frayed nerves on edge; he chanced a glance at his brother, who nodded reassuringly. With a wave of his hand he ushered Cas forward—the angel had insisted on entering first so that he could take out any demonic guards quickly and quietly. Dean didn't like that idea, feeling that it put his angel—_the _angel, dammit—in an unnecessary amount of danger, but Cas wouldn't hear of it going any other way. So it was with great reluctance that Dean allowed him to enter the dark, eerily silent building alone. He knew that the angel was well-prepared for anything that may come his way and that he could fly out if things went bad, but he just had one of those feelings, the one that wouldn't go away no matter how much he tried to convince it to. Dean just knew that something wasn't right. Cas glanced back at Dean before he entered the building, deep blue eyes holding his gaze, and it was all he could do to keep from grabbing on to the angel's trenchcoat and drag him back, hold him in his arms and take him far away from this place. Stifling the feeling he nodded at Cas and tightened his grasp on the knife in his hand, ignoring his thudding heart as his—_the, _fuck—angel turned from him and walked into the dark warehouse, alone._

_Five minutes passed without a sound from the trenchcoat-wearing angel and Dean was really starting to freak out. "Sammy, something's wrong," Dean whispered to his brother, who was looking at the abandoned building worriedly. _

_"Yeah, I know. Come on, I saw a back door on the way in, let's go that way and maybe we can meet up with Cas inside." Dean nodded and followed the tall man around the warehouse. "It should be right…ah, here we go." Sam shoved the door—it opened with a loud squeal, the hinges rusted from years of heavy rain and disuse—and entered, gun raised, Dean close behind him. The brothers quickly realised that silence wasn't necessary, as there was no one to be seen in the one-story building. _

_"Where are all the demons?" Dean demanded, trying to hold back his fear as they made their way to the front door. He nearly ran into Sam's back as the younger Winchester stopped suddenly, a finger to his lips. Dean moved forward and listened—he thought he could make out a voice. Looking at each other the men nodded and quietly made their way into the main part of the building. What they saw made Dean's heart stop. His angel was kneeling on the floor, blood soaking through his shirt and coat, dripping off of the exposed edge of the Angelic sword that went all the way through his back. He was breathing heavily, face a mask of agony as he looked up at the figure who stood above him. Rage clouded Dean's vision as he took in Naomi standing above Castiel, her lips moving in words that he couldn't hear over the pounding in his ears. "Cas!" he called out, causing both angels to look in his direction. Cas's eyes widened in fear as he saw Dean and he tried to speak, but no sound came out of his mouth. Naomi, however, wore a smug half-smile that Dean wanted to punch off of her face. _

_"Well hello, boys; isn't this a lovely surprise. Although I must admit, I didn't expect you to let poor little Castiel come in here on his own. No, I was rather hoping to make you watch as I destroyed him. But no matter—this has just as good of an effect on you. My work here is done. I'll be seeing you, Dean Winchester." With a flutter of wings she disappeared. Dean wasted no time getting to Cas's side. _

_"Hey Cas, it's gonna be okay, buddy. Just…just hold on, okay? We'll get you all fixed up." The angel collapsed heavily into his arms as he kneeled next to him. "Sammy—"_

_"I know, Dean, I'm calling Garth." Sam pulled out his phone and dialled the hunter who had replaced Bobby, knowing it wouldn't help but willing to try anything to save Cas._

_"Cas, come on, man, don't you die on me!" Dean whispered frantically to the bleeding angel. His hands were covered in his blood and he could hear his breathing slowing._

_"D-Dean," Cas gasped, pulling the hunter closer, "Dean, I—" his body was wracked with coughs, blood flowing from his mouth. He looked up at Dean, his piercing blue eyes meeting frightened green. "I'm sorry," he breathed. Dean was confused for a moment._

_"Cas, you have nothing to be sorry for. Now come on, enough with the talk; you're gonna be fine, okay? You can't leave me, man. I lo—" he took a deep breath and looked down at his angel, bleeding out in his arms. _

_"Dean," Cas breathed, lifting his hand to the hunter's face. He held it there for a moment, staring into those deep blue eyes, and watched as the light simply faded from Castiel, left his body in a rush; the hand dropped from his face; his chest stopped moving in time to breath that was no longer there._

_"Cas? Cas!" Dean shook him frantically, unable to believe what his every sense was telling him. Sam, having watched the exchange with tears in his eyes, knelt down next to his brother and put a hand on his arm._

_"Dean—" he cleared his throat and tried again, "Dean, we have…have to go. Come on. There's…we can't do anything for him. Cas—Cas is…gone. He's gone." _

Dean jerked awake as suddenly as he had fallen asleep. "Cas?" he called out quietly, hoping for an answer. "Castiel, please…" for the hundredth time he felt his world crash down around him and for the first time since Castiel's death, he put his head in his hands and cried.

* * *

In the bed next to Dean's, Sam was having a very similar dream. Every time his eyes closed he re-lived that night, wondering what he could have done differently…if he could have saved the angel. He came awake suddenly to his brother's whispered "Cas?" Holding his breath Sam feigned sleep, wanting Dean to have this moment to himself. "Cas, please…" There was so much heartache in those two words, such a depth of pain that Sam could recall hearing in his own voice shortly after Jess had died; if that didn't all but confirm his suspicions of Dean's feeling towards Cas, the quiet sobs he heard definitely did. Sam inwardly cringed—he hated witnessing Dean's pain, hearing his strong, invincible older brother fall apart and unable to help him. Lying in the dark motel room, listening to his brother cry, Sam prayed in his head. He prayed to Castiel, even though he was dead; to God, even though he didn't listen: _Castiel…Dean misses you, and although he will never admit it to anyone, I know he needs you_. _You're his best friend. And, Cas, I know we were never as close as you and Dean, but…I miss you too, man. A lot more than you'd think. I need you just as much as he does. Castiel, you are my only friend besides Dean. You're gone now and I know it's crazy thinking, but…if you can somehow hear me wherever you are…I'll keep him safe for you. Don't worry, Cas. I'll always make sure Dean is safe._


	2. Angeles

**AN: Here's the next chapter, guys! Thanks to everyone who's followed so far, it makes me feel so accomplished :) And so sorry for the wait, as I said, I'm re-writing this because I felt it was utter crap and I really wanted to improve on this story. It's coming along much better now, I think**

**Chapter Two-Angeles**

Pain. It was eternal; it was blinding; it was the most exquisite thing he had ever felt. _This is real, _he ability to feel hurt was reassuring yet frightening—for all intents and purposes, he didn't think he should be able to feel anything. Last thing he remembered was a sword through his back and, judging by the agony radiating throughout his body, that was not imagined. Stumbling to his feet Castiel looked around—everything was white, blindingly so, and he had to blink against the purity of it. He glanced down at himself and grimaced at the gaping hole in his chest and the crimson stain on his torn clothing. Absently he noted that the pain seemed to be subsiding, if very slowly; there was no more blood leaking from the garish stab wound, either. Castiel could not hear the comforting beat of his heart and concluded that he was dead. Shaking his head, he began to walk, the disorienting brightness fading as he recalled what had caused his death.

* * *

_Dean had not wanted him to go alone, but Castiel refused to hear of it going any other way. He claimed that, since he was an angel, he could easily protect himself but the truth was, he didn't want to risk the hunter getting hurt. He had long ago accepted that his feelings for the man were much more than those of a mere friend. He could tell that the eldest Winchester was reluctant to let him go, but finally he relented. At the warehouse it had seemed, for a moment, like Dean would try to stop him; Castiel had turned and met his green eyes, imploring him silently to stay. Dean nodded and Castiel entered the warehouse, his footsteps echoing softly off the concrete-and-steel walls._

_It was eerily silent, no sound except for the soft echo of Castiel's footsteps. After five minutes of walking he had still encountered nothing and with a frown Castiel turned, intent on informing the waiting hunters that it was safe to enter. He had barely finished the movement when a blinding pain shot down his spine and he stumbled forward. He tried to call out for help but could not find his voice. The world began to swim before his eyes and he risked a glance at his chest—he could see the silver point of an Angelic sword sticking out from between his ribs, his blood spilling from the wound it created. Looking behind him Castiel was not surprised to see the solemn face of Naomi staring down at him. _Wait, down? _He thought, then realised that, yes, he had sank to his knees at some point. Disoriented by the pain he again tried to speak; Naomi shook her head sadly and stepped forward. _

_"Oh Castiel," she murmured, "and to think of what you could have done! I had so much in store for you. Greatness you could never have imagined. But instead, you decided that the Winchester was more important than the will of Heaven. When will you learn, Castiel? You cannot have everything you want. Now I will have to take care of them myself." Her words were slow to penetrate Cas's pain-addled brain but when they did, he was filled with rage—and fear. _

_"You…will not touch…Dean," he managed to gasp through the pain. The room was fading quickly and he fought against the weakness he felt. Naomi studied him, her expression pitying. _

_"No, I won't," she agreed, "but eventually, someone or something else will. When they no longer have their angel to protect them, what will they do?" She leaned down towards the fallen angel as she spoke, her face only a few inches from his. Castiel opened his mouth to answer her but a shout from across the room interrupted him._

_"Cas!" the voice he would recognise anywhere shouted. His eyes snapped to the hunter; he was sure fear was plain on his face, fear of what Naomi would do to him now that Castiel was dying. The angel tried to speak to him but was still unable to say a word. Naomi stood straight and smiled. _

_"Well hello, boys; isn't this a lovely surprise. Although I must admit, I did not expect you to let poor little Castiel come in here by himself. No, I was rather hoping to make you watch as I destroyed him. But no matter—this has just as good of an effect on you. My work here is finished. I'll be seeing you, Dean Winchester." With a flutter of wings, she disappeared. Dean was at Castiel's side in a heartbeat, his arms around the bleeding angel. As he collapsed into Dean's arms Cas was vaguely aware that the hunter was speaking to him._

_ "Cas, come on, man, don't you die on me!" Dean whispered frantically._

_"D-Dean," Cas gasped, pulling the hunter closer, "Dean, I—" his body was wracked with coughs, blood flowing from his mouth. He looked up at Dean, hating the pain and fear reflected in his clear emerald eyes. "I'm sorry," he breathed. _

_"Cas, you have nothing to be sorry for. Now come on, enough with the talk; you're gonna be fine, okay? You can't leave me, man. I lo—" he took a deep breath and stopped. Cas looked at his hunter, wishing he would finish the sentence but knowing it wouldn't happen just because he was dying._

_"Dean," Cas breathed, lifting his hand to the hunter's face. He held it there for a moment, staring into the eyes of the man he loved. He could feel his strength fading, knew that death was but a breath away, and wanting nothing more than to stay in Dean's arms forever. He had never felt safer, even this close to death, than with this man, the one he would have fallen for. The last thing he saw were those haunting eyes slowly filling with tears before Castiel let the deep black void of nothingness take him._

* * *

Remembering that night, however long ago it may have been, brought a wave of sadness over Castiel; he knew Dean would be struggling, hurting over his loss, and only hoped that the hunter would be able to put it behind him with time. Walking along in the serene whiteness Castiel thought of his hunter, the deep green eyes that so often stared into his own. He could lose himself in their mossy depths if he wasn't careful, Castiel knew from experience; he also knew that his memory did not do those eyes justice. No matter how crystalline the images in his angelic memory were, nothing could even begin to compare to the real thing.

"Cas?" Dean's voice was quiet in his ear, startling the angel as much as comforting him; "Cas, please…" The whispered sob tore at his currently unbeating heart and he stopped walking, listening closely to his hunter's cries. Silently cursing his inability to help, all due to his current state of death, Castiel felt hopeless and had no choice but to listen to Dean cry for him. _Castiel, _another very familiar voice cut into his thoughts, _Dean misses you, and although he will never admit it to anyone, I know he needs you_. _You're his best friend. And, Cas, I know we were never as close as you and Dean, but…I miss you too, man. A lot more than you'd think. I need you just as much as he does._ _Castiel, you are my only friend besides Dean. You're gone now and I know it's crazy thinking, but…if you can somehow hear me wherever you are…I'll keep him safe for you. Don't worry, Cas. I'll always make sure Dean is safe._ Sam, always the more spiritual of the Winchesters, was praying to him; even though Castiel was dead, he still prayed. And with such determination! Castiel had always known Dean was strong, he made that obvious, but Sam never failed to surprise him. He had strength, yes; looking at him you would have to be blind not to see it. Yet despite all of that he was a sensitive soul, gentle, intrinsically kind—Cas had felt that in him, holding the young hunter's broken soul in his own two hands. Lucifer hadn't been able to destroy his kindness, what made Sam, Sam. With a strength that Castiel hadn't expected Sam managed to keep hold of himself, even in the grips of insanity. And now, he prayed to a dead angel, a parting message—_I will look after my brother, your charge…your friend._ Sam did not want a _dead angel_ to worry, so he prayed, all the while knowing that the chances of Castiel hearing were unlikely. Castiel respected him for that and thinking of Sam, an unfamiliar longing filled his being—he wanted to see the man again, look into his hazel eyes and thank him for the words. Wanted one of his large hands, not often coming into contact with the angel, to rest on his shoulder in that reassuring manner he had. Castiel wanted to see him smile.

"Hello, Castiel," a voice interrupted his confusing thoughts. Castiel turned and looked at the man. He was much shorter than Cas, with shaggy, dirty blonde hair and mischievous gold-flecked brown eyes. "It is nice to see you again."

"Gabriel," he replied with obvious surprise, not taking his eyes off his long-slain brother.

"Didn't expect to see you here," Gabe said with a shrug. He took in Castiel's appearance—torn, blood-stained clothing, the neat wound in his chest—and sighed. "Angel blade?" Castiel nodded. "Figured. So, what happened? Finally piss Dean-o off enough that he killed you?"

"No," Castiel answered seriously, missing the sarcasm in Gabriel's tone, "Naomi ran me through with her blade." The shorter man blinked in confusion.

"Naomi?"

"It is a long story, and not one of import." He paused and looked at the whiteness surrounding them. "Where are we? I do not recognise this place."

Gabriel opened his mouth to reply but was cut off by a voice behind Castiel. "That's because you have never been here before. It's a halfway point between life and death." Castiel turned, searching for the speaker. He appeared middle-aged, of average height, with long brown hair and kind brown eyes. "Hello Castiel, Gabriel," he greeted them with a nod in their direction.

Castiel tilted his head in confusion. "I know you?" The man laughed and placed a hand on Castiel's shoulder.

"Of course you do, but not like this; I have never appeared before you in the flesh, you might say. I know you have questions; why don't I give you a few answers before we continue on to business.

"Where are we?" was the first thing he thought and the man smiled.

"Why Castiel, we could be anywhere you want. You need only to think of a place and we're there." Cas frowned, thinking, and their surroundings shimmered slightly before he found himself in the driver's seat of the Impala, the dark highway stretching out before him for miles. The mysterious man was in the passenger's seat and he nodded appreciatively. Gabriel scoffed from the back and muttered something incomprehensible under his breath. "I must say I'm not surprised. Shall we?" He gestured to the road and Castiel hesitantly turned the key; the engine caught and roared to life, the familiar sound soothing Castiel's nervousness. He pressed down lightly on the gas pedal and the car sped off into the night.

After a few minutes of driving Gabriel broke the silence. "Who are you?" The man looked thoughtful for a moment before giving a small smile.

"You can call me Joseph." Cas nodded; it seemed to fit the man. "Now, there are some things that need to be taken care of. You're dead." It wasn't a question, simply a statement of the obvious. Castiel nodded, having accepted that as fact as he walked. "Neither of you are supposed to be, however, and that is a problem."

"I am not supposed to be dead? But, Naomi—"

"Lucifer wasn't supposed to have killed me?" Gabriel said at the same time, and joseph chuckled.

"She will be dealt with properly, in time, don't worry." He turned to address Gabriel directly. "I am very sorry about Lucifer's actions towards you; I was unable to step in at the time, otherwise I would have spared you such a death." Joseph looked genuinely sorrowful at the thought of his suffering and Gabriel shrugged.

"Ah, it's fine. Kind of exciting, dying." A half-hearted grin tugged at the corners of his mouth, not quite reaching his eyes. Joseph shifted in his seat so he was facing both angels at once.

"How would you like to return to Earth? Castiel, you to the Winchesters; and Gabriel, to wherever you wish?" The question caught Castiel off-guard; he had not thought it an option and judging from Gabriel's intake of breath, neither had the archangel.

Taking a deep breath Castiel answered slowly, "It would be…most pleasing, to go back to the Winchesters. They need watching over, as you know; I…worry about them, greatly," he admitted.

Gabriel nodded. "I do miss messing with those boys. And the women, of course. Nothing beats 'em."

Joseph nodded. "Well, I can return you to Earth, your vessels fully healed and clothing intact, if you so wish it." Castiel looked at Gabriel, his disbelief echoed on his brother's face. Joseph chuckled. "Don't look so shocked, my son; I can do anything if it is asked of me." Not even bothering to pay attention to the road anymore the angels stared at Joseph, understanding dawning on their features. "Yes, it is exactly as you think. How do you feel about my offer?" Castiel took a breath, thinking. "You hesitate; why?"

"It's Dean-o. Cassy's got it bad for him," Gabriel supplied with a grin. "You don't need to ask me twice, Father. It is lovely in Heaven, but I have a lot of unfinished business to take care of." Nodding Joseph gave the archangel a small smile.

"Be gone then, my son, and enjoy your time. I will see you when you are ready." Joseph waved a hand and Gabriel disappeared.

"I would like nothing more than to return as well, Father, but…I am uncertain," Castiel answered hesitantly.

"Ah yes, the Winchester," he said with a small half-smile. "He returns your feelings, Castiel, and I whole-heartedly approve of the union. Do not worry, my son; everything will work out."

"I could not stay with him, not as I am now; I'm an angel, and he…he is human." A blush rose to Castiel's cheeks at the turn in conversation. Joseph chuckled softly.

"I think we can work something out. Do you want to return, Castiel?"

"I will still have my powers?"

"If that is what you wish; say the word and I will grant it to you."

Cas hesitated, took a deep, calming breath, and looked his father firmly in the eyes.

* * *

Dean and Sam were drinking coffee and pouring over notes when a blinding light filled the motel room. It faded as quickly as it had come and the hunters blinked rapidly, trying to clear the spots from their vision. Once he could see clearly Dean looked at Sam, who was staring at a spot in between their beds.

"D-Dean," he stuttered, looking completely dumbstruck. Dean looked over and leapt from his chair, hand going for his knife.

"Who are you?" he growled at the figure sitting on the floor. Slowly it stood and Dean was shocked to see it was a woman—a very curvy, naked, woman. She was only a few inches shorter than him, with long dark hair falling in soft waves to her waist. Her skin was fair and creamy, perfect as a porcelain doll; she looked up and he suddenly couldn't breathe. Her face was perfect, lips full and pink and begging to be kissed, but it was her eyes that captivated him. Two perfect, dark blue eyes stared at him from that lovely face and his heart stopped; he would know those eyes anywhere. "Cas?" he breathed.

She tilted her head in that achingly familiar way. "Hello, Dean."


End file.
